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Felicity feels the weight leave her hands as Ellis falls from the library roof. She hears the sicking crack as a body hits the ground. She doesn't want to look. She doesn't want to see Ellis' dead body, but she has to. The only thing worse than seeing Ellis dead would be if she didn't, and then the writer somehow come back angry and vengeful.
Felicity looks, and the image of Ellis' lifeless eyes would be forever ingrained in every crevice of her mind. The way her body looked splayed out on the pavement would follow her in the dead of night, along with the drowned Alex and the spliced Clara.
Ellis was dead.
Ellis was dead, and Felicity was free. There was no one holding Clara's murder over her head, no one brandishing a rifle with her prints, no one with the knowledge of her whereabouts near the crime scene. There was no one threatening to frame her if she went to the police.
Ellis was dead.
Ellis was dead, and there was no one would ever just know how her tea was taken without needing to be told. Who would keep her up late at night with caffeine at ungodly hours. There was no one how would ask about her thesis, without seeming freaked out or telling her she was crazy.
Felicity's head is pounding with thoughts of Ellis, Ellis, ELLIS.
There were two Ellises, and they both were dead now. Felicity has no way of knowing which Ellis was the real one, and which was the one who got too far absorbed into their writing.
Perhaps, Felicity wonders, there were three Ellises. The one that was nice to Felicity, the one that murdered without a care, and the real Ellis. The one who she would never meet, because there was no way that Ellis would allow that even if she was still alive. Even if nothing had happened with Clara, Ellis would never show Felicity her true self. Ellis was too insecure for Felicity to even get near. The one who was closest to knowing who the true Ellis was Quinn, but Felicity doubted that even they had a clue.
Some part of Ellis died with her rabbit and grandmother, and tore her from the inside out. Or possibly the expectations of her writing drove her insane. Or possibly Ellis was just evil up from the start. Or possibly Felicity was the evil up one. Or possibly Ellis was never messed up, just some passionate writer. Or possibly Felicity was the messed up one. Or possibly she should fling herself off the roof to follow Ellis. Or possibly-
Felicity blinked. The one thing she did know for sure is that Ellis was dead at the base of the library, and Felicity had to move if she didn't want to be caught.
The ghost of Ellis would haunt her forever, the pondering could wait until the evidence was hidden and Felicity's innocence was assured.